Mint Chocolate
by lyssalu
Summary: Even the surliest amongst us can find something to appreciate about Christmas.


**A/N**: Ahgfdh. I really, really, really, really, really can't write Koliana for crap. BUT, this was for NSAS Sekrit Santa, so I gave it a shot anyhow! This is more like fanfiction of ghost.713's fanfiction. She's the author of Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained (best author + fic on this site IMO), and I've made a lot of references to it and basically used her entire setup for this oneshot. The way I've written them, these two are basically her characters, and I've tried to stay as true to them and to her universe as possible. She is amazing, and if you haven't already, you should definitely read her work.

Merry Christmas, Xey! I hope this doesn't disappoint too badly. ;)

* * *

Christmas was a human tradition that Kolyat cared less and less for by the second.

In a matter of hours, Oriana's apartment had been transformed into a glowing hodgepodge of ugly colors that didn't belong together coupled with bright lights that made his head pound and foods that made his stomach ache. And there had been so many errands to run, so many shopping trips, so many hours of his life _wasted_.

He'd always liked her apartment, but right now, Kolyat couldn't think of anything that he detested more. Simple grays and whites had been covered up with blaring strings of light, greens and blacks (by far the most distasteful color for a light he'd ever encountered) tainting what once had been sleek and contemporary. There wasn't a surface that hadn't been draped with shitty Christmas décor, and Oriana's insistence that everything looked "homey" caused his throat to tighten (a thing he'd learned helped keep the biting remarks from blurting out of his mouth).

Wreaths, stockings, knick-knacks – whatever the humans called them, they were all _ugly_. The poster boy of the holiday also confused him; fat, old humans draped in black had always been painted as something to fear, and yet this "Santa" was admired for handing out toys (obvious instruments for luring kids out into a basement somewhere) to toddlers. Santa was the stereotype he'd learned humans had been taught to avoid, and yet they invited him into their house while they were _sleeping_.

Kolyat shuddered at the thought – the holiday seemed to be very closely tied to "Halloween."

More than any of it though, was the _stench_ that seemed to accompany the holiday. Kolyat had never encountered anything so _offensive_ in his life. "Pine," Oriana had called it. His lower lip tugged downward at the memory. He hated _pine_. Her entire apartment reeked of it – there was not a room available that had not been contaminated. The odor was so overpowering that no other scent could cover it up, so he'd had to _marinate_ in it.

He really, really couldn't stand it.

He was pretty certain that the past week he'd spent with Oriana had been the most miserable of his life; he'd never seen the human woman so strung out over something so _stupid_. The woman bustled past him with a huff, catching his eye as she did so as if she had read his thoughts, black and white "garland" trailing behind her as she came to a stop in front of the ostentatious Christmas tree she'd had him place in the center of her living room.

It was that tree. He glared daggers at it from across the room and—

_(Blue eyes light up, a sense of genuine excitement filling them; too soft skin crinkles and fleshy lips tug upward into a toothy smile that is more charming than he cares to admit, and she grips at his forearm, tugging him forward. His nostrils burn and he suppresses a sneeze by sniffing and rubbing at his nose with the back of a hand. _

"_Look at it, Kolyat!" She pulls at him once more, her hand gripping and tightening around his. A stranger brushes past him and the wails of a child pull his focus temporarily away from his human companion. "A _real_ Christmas tree. I haven't had one of these since I was a kid."_

_ He feels his scales bunch as his eyebrows pull upward; he doesn't understand the significance that this has to her, but he is sure that whatever it is, it's _stupid_. "What are you going to do with this?"_

_ "_We_ are going to put this in my apartment.")_

He still didn't understand why someone would put a _tree_ in their apartment. Trees belonged outside, where they didn't get their stench all over everything that Kolyat held dear, like his _mind_. The odor was so obnoxious that it got caught in his nose and clung to his clothing, and he'd begun to associate certain words and phrases with it like "tree," and "decorate," and "sister," and "hey Kolyat could you—"

"Hey, Kolyat, could you put this away for me?"

And when these specific words and phrases were uttered, no matter the context, the scent of pine was all that he could remember. He once again struggled to contain a sneeze as he accepted a pile of garland and other such offensive ornamentations from Oriana's outstretched hands.

Yes, he definitely hated Christmas.

The scales on the back of Kolyat's neck bristled as he stuffed a round, leafy object into Oriana's storage closet. It pulled at his flesh and stuck to his fingertips and he frowned as he shoved it deeper and with more force, attempting to make it stay where he'd put it. The small space was overflowing with all of the items he'd been ordered to stuff in there for the majority of the morning, all of them things that Oriana had decided she hadn't needed after all despite the hours they'd spent looking for them.

It popped out of place and his hands shot out to balance it, and immediately as he did so, a string of beaded garland flipped out and flicked him in the face. He sneered at it, wrapped it around a fist, and _tugged_ – and an avalanche of gaudy human _shit_ buried him.

"Having trouble?"

"What do you care?" His lower lip protruded and he eyed her as if to say, 'This is all _your_ fault and I hate you for it.'

She smiled and shrugged past him, and with a bare foot, shoved everything that had just piled out of the closet back in and quickly closed the door. "You're making this a lot more difficult than it has to be, you know." Before he could respond, she took his arm and led him out of the hallway. "How about we take a break?"

"Whatever."

The kitchen was only slightly more tolerable than the rest of her apartment, but only because it had been the least decorated and therefore the least obnoxious. It still reeked of all the things he hated, cinnamon and mint ranking not far behind pine on the "human things that really smelt" list he'd been slowly accruing since he and Oriana had begun spending more and more time together.

The potpourri that she'd placed in the center of her tiny dining room table was particularly awful.

Oriana sat down across from him and gave him a knowing look as she took a sip of water, condensation sliding down the edge of the glass and pelting the holiday themed table cloth with quieted pitter-patters.

"Miranda is going to be here in half an hour. And maybe a few friends later…"

"Okay."

"You can still leave if you want, you know."

"Yeah, I know." He didn't have anywhere else to be.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat? You've got that really sour look on your face agai—"

_(A pale, toneless hand holds out a twiggy object and waits for him to accept it. Dark green needles branch off in symmetrical lines from the stick, and at its base, a tiny black ribbon had been tied around it. "Merry Christmas, Kolyat," the hand holding the thing gestures toward him, _insistent_._

_He feels his eyebrows furrow, the scales on his forehead tightening, and he grasps at the object, studying it._

_Kolyat really wasn't sure what to do with this, but she kept looking at him with this _expectancy_, like he was supposed to do or say something. His heart beats with heavy thumps in his chest – tha-thunk tha-thunk tha-thunk – and he inhales a dry swallow before he brings the twig to his lips and chomps down._

_Laughter echoes around him as he chews and an intense feeling of embarrassment begins to overwhelm him; the tips of his frill heat up and his eyes sting, and the woman in front of him doubles over with a tiny hand covering her mouth._

"_Kolyat, it was for _decoration_.")_

He shrugged. He was pretty sure that 'pine' had permanently ruined his appetite (admittedly, it wasn't just the scent of the plant that drove him crazy – in fact, the _smell_ wasn't even a third of it). He hadn't eaten properly in a week so as not to trigger _that_ memory. She smiled at him and took another sip of water and he picked at a 'reindeer' that marred the surface of the otherwise acceptable table cloth.

Kolyat knew that Oriana was only going all out on this one because her sister was showing up. He'd only met Miranda once, and he couldn't exactly say that the thought of meeting her again warmed his heart. She'd asked all kinds of…questions. Awkward questions. And she was kind of a…bitch. All of that aside, Kolyat could tolerate Miranda, but only because she reminded him of Oriana – equal parts annoying and irritatingly right all of the time, with very _few_ redeemable qualities—

_(Her arms wrap around him and he feels his entire body stiffen; his hands waver near her waist, his indecision on whether or not to touch her a thing that makes his heart pound more heavily than her breath as it tickles against the tips of his frill. He feels the last shreds of his will collapsing, and as he ducks down to rest his chin against her shoulder, he catches the scent of—_

_Kahje._

_So familiar, yet so far beyond what—and memories flash before him, the face of his smiling mother as she kneels to kiss the center plating of his forehead, the clouded dome of their dusty desert habitat, the smell of native plants as they come to full bloom—_

"_What is that?" He feels the words slip from his lips, although he cannot recall ever intending to give voice to them. He pulls her tighter against him._

"_What is what?"_

"_That _smell_.")_

"Speaking of…" Oriana got up from her chair and turned toward one of the cabinets, making a show of digging through a drawer. "Have you talked to Captain Bailey lately?"

"No." Kolyat's back straightened upon hearing the name and he _struggled_ to think of pine in order to fight back a memory that he considered to be _more_ unfavorable.

"Interesting." She turned around, a small, rectangular package in her hands. "He sent me something. Actually, it's addressed to both of us, but he sent it to my address." She stuck an arm out and pointed it at him, and he wordlessly accepted it.

"Uh…" He looked at her, turning the slim package over in his hands, and she crossed her arms.

"Open it."

The yellowed paper packaging was thin and easy to tear, and as he pressed down on it, a popping sound emitted from within indicating to the drell that whatever this was, it had been encased in bubble wrap. 'FRAGILE' blared across the front in bold, black lettering – what he assumed was actually red – but he was not careful when he gave a corner of the recycled paper a rough tug and revealed the package's contents.

Orange lighting lit up the teal of his face; what he'd pulled out was far from what he'd been expecting.

"Oh, how sweet!" A voice sounded from over his shoulder – he had not noticed that Oriana had even moved – and Kolyat jumped. "I guess Bailey made it home for the holidays."

Kolyat puzzled over the hologram that the Captain had sent them. The frame was light and black, cheaply made, and within it Bailey was depicted with a younger human girl that Kolyat assumed was of some relation to the man. Across the top in decadent, scrolling letters read: 'Happy holidays from the Baileys!' and across the bottom in Bailey's handwriting: 'Keep Kolyat out of trouble, Ori.' Kolyat bit his lip and swallowed.

"I don't get it."

"What's to get? He sent us a Christmas card."

"Yeah, but why send it as a package? He could have just sent it as an extranet message."

"That defeats the whole point of Christmas." Though he wasn't facing Oriana, Kolyat could imagine perfectly that the woman had her hands on her hips. "It's a gift, Kolyat."

"Christmas is stupid."

"You're only bitter because you tried to eat part of a fir tree."

"I don't need you to remind me," Kolyat snorted and rubbed his eyelids, his frill burning as he once again relived the memory. He knew that he would never live that down. "It never stops tasting bad."

"Are you still completely against the idea of gifts?" Oriana's voice sounded from behind him once more and she bent down, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling her cheek against the side of his face. "Because I may have done something for you…"

"If I said 'yes,' it wouldn't stop you from giving it to me anyway, so that question is stupid." He'd been using that word a lot lately, but it never ceased to apply.

Kolyat felt Oriana's weight disappear from behind him and he suddenly felt cold, but he ignored the feeling. As he watched her slight frame disappear through the kitchen doorway, he resumed picking at the table cloth. He didn't stop until Oriana had re-entered, violin in hand; a chair dragged across the metallic kitchen flooring as she brought it to center and she sat down with a delicate little 'plop' before tucking the instrument under her chin.

There was no explanation, only the sound of music as her fingers began to pluck away at strings.

Kolyat had never thought of humans as being particularly graceful, but there was something in the way that Oriana's fingers moved – they were quick and precise, and though the way her middle digits moved apart and separated creeped him out, there was also something fascinating about it.

Kolyat had learned enough about this type of music through Oriana to know that none of her notes had thus far soured – she was playing the piece to perfection. Kolyat didn't like violins, though – they were too screechy, no matter how much of an "expert" the musician was. Watching her movements was more satisfying to Kolyat than Oriana's brand of music ever could be.

The drell tried to keep focused on what Oriana was playing, but his heart was pounding too hard in his chest for him to be able to fully listen. All that he had managed to collect from it was that the tone was somber; Oriana's expression was neutral, her lips set in their natural frown, and the tips of her lashes rested against the tops of her cheekbones.

Kolyat understood that it wasn't about whether or not he actually liked this. The drell would probably never understand the human race's taste in music, let alone Oriana's, but he still _felt_ something from it. Oriana playing for him had…moved him? And rather than giving Kolyat something physical, she had given him something that he could always keep with him – a memory. Kolyat's eyeballs prickled. His nose stung and distantly, he felt his lower lip begin to wibble – no, no, no – _he was not going to cry_—

_(The scent of waste festers around him and his knees ache as he kneels on the floor, the sounds of urine splashing against a metallic surface filling the room despite Bailey's promises of the bathrooms being closed. There is a yellow, sticky substance that is caked between the cracks in the tile and the juncture where wall meets floor, and Kolyat picks up his lukewarm wash cloth from the bucket he had sat next to him and scrubs, and scrubs, and scrubs, his task endless—)_

"Did you like it?"

Kolyat roused from his thoughts and his eyes no longer prickled, though he could feel a dull ache pounding away in his knees.

"I didn't hate it."

Oriana placed her violin back in its case and smiled at him from across the room, and Kolyat knew that she'd taken his comment the same way she would have if he'd lavished her with praise.

* * *

The living room was a disaster area. Kolyat didn't want to be in there. He didn't want to be sitting in a chair across from Oriana and her older sibling. He'd _rather_ sit through Nielson's Fifth on repeat for five days straight while on bathroom duty than do this. He readjusted in the chair and leaned as far back as he could, slouching and hoping that he could disappear for a few..._hours_.

If only he'd placed the Christmas tree a few feet to his right, he'd have been completely obstructed from their view. Not that they weren't ignoring him, anyway.

The two of them had been chatting for thirty minutes, and thus far, he'd been doing a good job of tuning them out. This was why he felt mildly startled when he finally realized that their focus had been drawn to him, two sets of identical blue eyes with identical icy stares gazing at him expectantly. He perked up and tugged on a jacket sleeve, his eyes darting back and forth between them.

"What?"

"Miranda asked you how you were doing."

"I'm fine."

"He's fine."

"I'm right here, Ori."

Kolyat's gaze darted back and forth between them for a second time.

"Kolyat, just a few questions for you…"

"Didn't you get your fill last time, Randa?"

"No. Hush, sister – this is important."

Kolyat wanted to disappear.

"Have you felt any difficulty breathing lately?"

"No."

"No shortness of breath?"

"No."

"Any sign of cough? A cold, maybe?"

"No."

"No sniffles? Any vomiting within the last twenty-four hours?"

"…No."

"Are you still a virgin."

"…_Yes_."

"_Randa!_"

"I was just checking, Ori. I can always tell when they're lying." Miranda tucked a strand of prickly black hair behind one of her ears, drawing into sharp focus how much of an oddity it was. Another thing Kolyat didn't like – their ears. "One last thing – and this goes for the two of you. You're a woman now, Oriana, and I've learned a thing or two about drell while…on the job…and as your sister, I thought it pertinent to pass you along some advice."

Kolyat picked up a piece of fuzzy gold trim that had gotten stuck in between the cushion of the chair he was sitting in and began to pick at it. This had already been a long day – and from the looks of it, it was about to get even _longer_. It was at this point that Miranda finally addressed the uncharacteristic satchel that she'd walked in with, and the sound of Velcro ripping apart echoed throughout the otherwise deadened apartment.

"I am hoping that the two of you are so far unaware of this, but prolonged skin-to-skin contact has the tendency to cause a rash – be gentle with my sister, Kolyat – and thankfully, a doctor on my ship has provided a cure for this." The woman took out a pink colored bottle and placed it on Oriana's side table. Kolyat couldn't look at either of them. "Be sure to read the instructions, Ori. It works best if you use it within twenty-four hours of experimentation."

"Oh my _God_, Miranda—"

"Hold on, I'm not finished." The woman pulled out a booklet and a bottle of pills and Kolyat felt like he was going to be sick. "These," Miranda said as she rattled the bottle, "Are for when you come into oral contact with Kolyat. Assuming that you don't already know, there is a chemical found within drell bodily fluids that cause hallucinations within humans. These pills help to break this chemical down so that there isn't such an extreme reaction when it comes into contact with your system." Miranda set down the pill bottle next to the salve before moving on to her next item. "This manual is all about drell/human relations. There is a lot to learn in here, Oriana, and I advise you to read it for your safety."

Miranda finally stopped talking and Kolyat felt like if he slumped in his chair any farther, he really _would_ disappear. It wasn't even in Kolyat to feel embarrassed, at this point.

He wasn't taking this one.

He waited for Oriana to respond.

"…Miranda."

"…Oh, have I overdone it again?"

"Well, yes—"

There was a knock at the door and three sets of eyes moved in unison toward the sound. It was Oriana who got up to answer it. Two faces peeked through at them from the opened door and—

_(a fist connects with his face and pain numbs him, shock and fear and regret all at once overwhelming him)_

"Hey, Oriana. We're just here for moral support."

_Commander Shepard_.

"Oh, for whom?" Oriana moved to the side so that Shepard and a tattooed woman could come in, and the face Kolyat had least been expecting had been revealed.

"Ah, I—"

"—Holy fuck, Lawson, you busting out the sex lotion alre—"

"—I should…put this away or something." Kolyat held up the limp piece of trim he'd been slowly tearing apart and scurried off to the storage closet.

The drell could think of a lot of better ways that he could be spending his night (like washing piss from a perpetually dirty floor), but he knew that if he left he'd just wind up back here again. With her. A memory tickled at the back of his mind, threatening to force its way to the forefront; Kolyat bit the inside of his cheek and focused with marked intensity on the Christmas décor dangling in front of him. _That_ was not something that he was interested in reliving anytime soon.

He'd not sat alone for five minutes, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat, before a knock had sounded at the door.

"Go away."

"It's just me, Kolyat."

"…Go away."

"No, sir. I'm coming in."

The closet opened and Oriana appeared before him, her arms folded across her chest and a mug in her hand. "Scoot over."

"No."

"It's my closet."

"I don't care."

"_I will sit on you_."

"…"

He begrudgingly made room for Oriana and she closed the door as she found a seat beside him.

"How long are you planning on sitting in here, Kolyat?"

"For as long as it takes him to go away."

Kolyat could see the woman nod from the corner of his eye and he rubbed a hand against the bridge of his nose. There was a silence that followed for a long time afterward, and it was comfortable. Oriana would wait it out with him so that he wouldn't have to be alone.

Oriana sipped out of a mug and then shoved it toward him and he looked down at it, a scowl marring his features. "What?"

"Try this. It's really good."

"No." Oriana didn't move the mug out of his personal space and he chuffed. "What is it?"

"I'm not telling you until you try it."

"…Fine."

Kolyat grabbed the mug from the pushy woman and took a noisy slurp, and as the liquid met his tongue, the only thing he could think was, '_mint_.' His first instinct was to hate the substance with every fiber of his being, but as it sat in his mouth, he found that it wasn't so bad. There was a hidden sweetness and warmth to the drink that was at first overwhelmed by the frosty bitterness of the mint, and the longer he thought about it, the more he liked it.

"What is it?"

"Mint chocolate." She paused to tuck a strand of hair away from her face and to take the drink away from him. She sat it in a far corner of the closet so that neither of them would accidentally bump it. "Do you like it?"

"…It's okay. Whatever."

Oriana smiled. "It reminds me of you."

Kolyat's chest felt like there was a weight on it and his heart thudded in his ears, and when Oriana rested her head against his shoulder, the thudding went impossibly faster.

"You make me feel weird."

A delighted chuckle emanated from Oriana's chest and he could hear the seam of her lips part, the lilting sound of her laughter filling the tiny storage closet and causing his throat to tighten. "I'm going to take that as a compliment." She paused, another giggle escaping. "Thank you."

And then there was silence. Kolyat wasn't going to call it awkward (he'd certainly been through worse), but there was something…off. Something…something weird. And when her fingertips brushed across his forearm, her palm firming and her digits gripping, he suddenly knew that it was also _right_.

"For what it's worth, you make me feel weird, too."

Warmth spread through his stomach and he wiped the barest hint of a smile away with the brushing of a hand. Oriana leaned her head against his shoulder, tiny strands of hair tickling at his neck; his first inclination was to shift away, his upper lip tugging in disgust, but he leaned into her instead. Maybe he could get used to the thin, black strings – or maybe he could talk her into shaving her head like that vulgar woman who had invited herself into Oriana's apartment…

Oriana shifted, her head tilting back, and Kolyat shivered as her hair tickled against his neck; he pulled a hand away from her and scratched, and another giggle broke out, the sound exacerbated by the enclosed space. Kolyat startled, the abruptness with which the silence had been interrupted causing his whole body to stiffen.

"What?" This time, he made no efforts to keep the irritation hidden from his voice.

"We're sitting under mistletoe."

He followed her gaze up and frowned. There were a lot of things that had been stuffed up there that could qualify as 'mistletoe,' but they were all ugly and looked the same, so he didn't really care to distinguish between any of it. "So?"

"So, according to human tradition, we have to kiss."

"That's stupid." He pulled away from the human and stared at her eyes, challenging himself to not look away. Blue irises danced, the pupils larger than Kolyat remembered them being, and the smile still remained on her too-flexible face. "You're making this up."

"I'm not," she grinned, and her palm connected with a 'pop' against his bicep. "If I wanted to kiss you, I would do it."

Kolyat narrowed his eyes at her and straightened the collar of his jacket. "So you have to have an excuse now?"

She giggled again and bumped against his shoulder with her own. "We can't break tradition on Christmas, Kolyat."

"Who says?"

"I do."

Strange, un-textured hands gripped the back of Kolyat's neck and tugged him downward; their foreheads met before their lips did and there was an awkward moment where Oriana had to adjust, her entire body shifting so that she could dip her head a little lower. Their mouths connected with a tender 'pop' and Kolyat struggled not to react to the sticky texture of the lip gloss that he'd likely never get used to.

Oriana's hair tickled at his face and he almost parted from her, but he didn't out of pure stubbornness – he could do this. To prove it to himself, he dragged a hand up her side and paused before gripping a fistful of her hair; he massaged at her scalp and she moaned against his mouth, her lips parting against his, and he hesitated for a moment before he took the opportunity to explore her with his tongue.

Which had been a mistake on his part. Her teeth were the most awkward part about her. Kolyat couldn't wrap his mind around them, let alone his _tongue_. He shied away, which made the kiss sloppy and far more uncomfortable than it otherwise would have been. Fingers inched up the hollow of his throat and he gasped into her mouth, and he started to feel _weird_ again.

His heart pulsed harder and faster until it was all that he could hear.

Yeah, they'd kissed before, but this one felt different. It felt kind of…special. Kolyat could get used to this for Oriana, because her species didn't matter to him. Humans were normally pretty repugnant…but she wasn't. _Oriana_ made up for the features he could never be attracted to. Kolyat broke off the kiss with a grimace – and it only helped that they were both getting better.

"Well, we're improving."

"…Yeah…"

Oriana knew that Kolyat didn't like her teeth, and Kolyat knew that Oriana didn't like the texture of his tongue, so it was something that they were both learning to deal with.

"I'm sorry to bring this up, but…" Oriana shifted her weight away from him and long arms wrapped around folded legs. "Don't you think you should talk to Thane?"

"No."

"Oh, come on." Fingertips feathered against his chin and his face was pulled toward hers once more. Oriana's eyes bored into his. "He looks really dejected out there. He's sitting by himself with that same faraway look that you sometimes get."

Kolyat's sigh was a low rumble in his chest. He had no reason to feel guilty.

But he did anyway.

"Fine."

Oriana grinned and the whole closet seemed to light up because of it until Kolyat realized that it was actually because she'd opened the door. It closed behind her and he was left alone and in the dark once more. He hadn't noticed how deeply his nails had been digging into the flesh of his palms until a knock against the other side of the door sounded.

Kolyat tensed before rolling his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up. He didn't want to look as affected by his father's presence as he felt.

Then again, he was hiding in a storage closet in an attempt to get away from him, so it was a practice in futility.

"Come in, I guess."

His father's voice was muffled by the thickness of the door. "Ah…you really want me to sit in there with you?"

"Well, I'm not going out there."

Sitting in the closet with his father was even more awkward than sitting there with Oriana had been, but at least Thane seemed to be as equally affected by the scent of pine as Kolyat had been. Kolyat hugged his legs closer to his body as his father sniffled, the younger drell determined not to touch the man next to him despite how impossibly close they were.

He never should have agreed to do this. It wasn't that Kolyat didn't want to see his father; he was just tired of the man dropping in on him without warning. It was kind of like the older man thought that he could do whatever he wanted and that everything would be fine, no matter what, because that's what he'd always done, and the people nearest to him had always forgiven him for it.

For whatever reason, his father had always been given a free pass when it came to these things – a pass that he'd always taken for granted, just like everything else. Kolyat imagined that there were few things in life that his father actually appreciated, if there was even anything at all. There were no important things, no ties to be sustained, no people to care for – no one _important enough_ to come home to.

Kolyat couldn't prevent the bitterness that suddenly blanketed over him any more than he could stop Thane from putting a hand on his shoulder, his attempt at getting Kolyat to look at him. Kolyat's eyes bored with even more intensity into the carpeting below them.

"Kolyat, I am unsure of what's bothering you, but—"

"It's nothing."

"No, it's rarely 'nothing,' Kolyat." Finally the weight of Thane's hand had been removed from his shoulder and Kolyat was barely able to stifle his sigh of relief. "I've done something to upset you again."

His father was right, as he was always prone to being.

It bothered Kolyat that Oriana's sister gave her notice weeks in advance of her arrival, but his own father didn't care enough to put forth the effort. Thane didn't stay in contact with Kolyat when he wasn't there – in fact, he barely sent a letter. For someone who wanted to make amends, he was doing a pretty crappy job at it.

It pissed Kolyat off – _all of it_. Every time Thane came to see him, he was all weepy and apologetic and pathetic, but never _once_ had he done anything to remedy the situation. It was almost as if the older man simply didn't know _how_.

Kolyat still didn't answer.

"I am very proud of you, Kolyat."

"You don't have the right to be proud."

"On the contrary – I am not proud for anything that I have done, but I am proud of you regardless. I can see your mother in you and it gives me hope that my involvement with you – or lack thereof – has not damaged you in ways that are beyond repair. There is very little of me in you, Kolyat, and it's made you a strong man. A good man. Certainly you are a better person than I could ever hope to be."

There that word was again – 'good.'

Kolyat's chest ached.

"This isn't about you."

"No, of course not." There was a lull in conversation then as Thane rasped a breath, the shifting of leathers a sound that irritated Kolyat beyond reason in that moment. "You don't have to like me, Kolyat, but I will always love you."

Kolyat's temples pounded and his fists tightened as he repelled the urge to punch something. In these situations, he somehow always came out feeling like the bad guy. He felt so angry that he could yell and kick and throw a big cry-baby fit right in the floor of the closet he'd crammed himself into. Words caught in his throat before they finally bubbled upward and began to spew from his mouth.

"You are the densest person I've ever met. You keep repeating over and over again the same damn problems you've apologized for a hundred times over and you act like you haven't done anything, and you look at me with those sad stupid eyes and just crap all over me with your pride and your apologies and your endless promises of 'always-love' and you make me feel like I've done something wrong even though you're the one who comes and leaves as you want and you expect everything to be fine, but it's not."

"I…do not understand. Do you wish for me to leave?"

_I want you to stay_.

"No."

"What am I doing wrong, Kolyat?"

_Everything_.

"You could try warning me before you just show up like this."

_And do _anything_ to indicate that you care even when you're not right here_.

"Ah." Thane's response was weak and Kolyat rolled his eyes, an annoying habit he'd picked up from Oriana. "I am…bad at this."

"Yeah, I know."

"I…" Thane started and stopped, and with a sigh, he clasped his hands in front of him. "I want you to know that I am not just like this with you. I am…socially inept. I am unaware of how to be a father or a friend or even a person on a very normal level. It is my hope that you can see that and eventually forgive my shortcomings. I am learning, Kolyat, though my progress is slow. Please know that I am _trying_."

"Just…" Kolyat felt even more uncomfortable all of a sudden – it hurt to be angry over something that his father couldn't help. "I don't like surprises, okay?"

"Another trait you share with your mother."

Silence passed then and when it began to grow awkward, Kolyat looked his father in the eye for the first time that night.

_("the same faraway look," Oriana says, and her hair tickles at his neck)_

"Stop thinking about her."

Thane glanced up at Kolyat with abrupt clarity, and he looked as if he wanted to say something caustic, but he appeared to swallow it down—

_(Kolyat's throat tightens)_

"I apologize, Kolyat. This must be far more difficult for you than it is for me."

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Then we won't. I obviously did not come to you tonight so that I could relive my memories of your mother."

"Yeah, okay." Kolyat folded his arms across his chest and bent his legs differently so that the blood could more efficiently circulate. "What did you come here for?"

"Shepard really likes Christmas—"

"—I noticed—"

"—So he suggested that I give you a gift."

Oh, here we go.

Another one of those awkward moments where he got handed something and—

There was suddenly a weight in his hands.

"It really is a silly human tradition, Kolyat." Thane spoke and Kolyat tore a corner of the brown paper a little hesitantly before completely shredding it, and for a second time that night, the orange glow of a holograph reflected against his reptilian features. "So I opted to go with another piece of silly human sentimentality."

Somehow, the image of the two of them together wasn't so silly to Kolyat.

Really, it felt kind of like an inside joke between them.

But not silly.

Kolyat wanted to laugh, but he didn't.

"Where did you get this?"

"Shepard also seems to have 'a thing' for photography."

"Your commander is creepy."

"Ah…you don't know the half of it."

Kolyat lit the holo beneath his palms and stared down at it, the image shimmering as it tilted back and forth in his hands. One step forward, or however that human phrase went.

Maybe Christmas wasn't so bad.


End file.
